


5 Reasons Why

by StarryIllusion



Category: Avengers (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Asshole!Steve, BAMF JARVIS, Bot Feels, Child Abuse, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, James Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Feels, Minor Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Protective Tony, Self-Harm, Steve Feels, Suicide Attempt, Tony why do we all love to hurt you so much, Traumatised Jarvis, When Tony and JARVIS fight everyone knows about it, may be triggering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-22 23:29:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3747547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryIllusion/pseuds/StarryIllusion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were hundreds of times in Tony Stark's life that he wished he were dead.  Take away the hangovers and you were left with only five.  Luckily, blood isn't always thicker and he's pretty sure his is 80% Scotch anyway and sometimes you just have to choose your own family. And if the pickings are a little slim?  Well, good thing he's a genius and can build them.</p><p>Or the 5 suicide attempts of Tony Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dummy was never programmed to protect Tony. It was something he learned by example.

The first time was a result of way too much alcohol, too little sleep and the knowledge that he was never good enough. Not by his classmates standards and certainly not by his father's.

That day had been the most humiliating day of his life so far and there had been a few of those.  
He had naively thought that his father would be impressed, would be proud, would be sober even. Some chance of that. He had shown up late, not that Tony had expected anything else and although he didn't look drunk the smell of alcohol lingered on his breath. 

He had ignored Tony's enthusiastic attempts to show him Dummy's code and blueprints, brushed off his explanation of the AI program and how it was capable of learning and merely sneered at his efforts to get Dummy to wave at Howard. 

He had held back tears, schooling his expression to one of indifference as Howard had berated him in front of his classmates, his tone mocking as he demanded to know why Tony had wasted his time making himself a “little helper” instead of creating something useful. “What, you need to build friends now?” The derisive words rang in Tony's ears as he stared at Dummy's battered form in the corner. 

He was fixable, of course he was. Howard hadn't been particularly thorough in his attempt to destroy the bot, hadn't even really succeeded in breaking much more than Dummy's claw and outer casing. It was the initial impact of being shoved over that had taken Dummy offline. He had been far more focused on breaking his son than the robot. 

Even so, Tony had put himself between his father and Dummy because he would be damned if the bots earliest memories consisted of being attacked while his creator refused to protect him. He had designed Dummy to learn and what would that have taught him?

He couldn't drag his eyes away from his damaged robot and he dare not even look at his own face. He knew his cheekbone was bruised and split from the force of his father's punch and his eyes were probably swollen from crying for so long. His ribs ached although he didn't think they were broken and he knew without looking that he had hand shaped bruises on his wrist and forearm where Howard had grabbed him.

He couldn't stop sobbing and he knew dimly that it was partly shock. That didn't stop him from wobbling into the bathroom and grabbing up the razor, throwing it to the floor and crushing it under the heel of his shoe to release the blades from their plastic casing.

He sat on the floor with his back against Dummy's frame, sobbing his apologies even though he knew the bot was offline and couldn't hear him. Probably wouldn't understand him even if he could. It was for the best anyway. He didn't want Dummy to have to watch him die.

The blade was sharp and he barely felt the sting as he dragged it down the inside of his wrist. Vertical cuts, not horizontal. The better to bleed out quickly. He stared at his bleeding wrist and for a moment wished he hadn't cut so deep. It was hurting now and he was starting to shake and he knew he wouldn't be able to do his other wrist. Maybe one would be enough.

He leaned back on Dummy and cried harder, wondering what was so wrong with him that he couldn't even get killing himself right. 

It was almost an hour later that he came back to awareness to the sound of his room-mate's frantic voice yelling at him. Demanding to know if he could hear him and what the hell had he done. 

“Fuck! Come on, man, answer me! What the fuck, Tony, what the actual fuck?!”

The guy said fuck a lot, he thought distractedly. Or maybe he didn't usually, this was kind of a special circumstance. He supposed he would give the guy the benefit of the doubt, after all it wasn't every day you walked into your room and found your room-mate had committed suicide. He wondered if it still counted as suicide since he wasn't dead yet.

He could hear other voices now, attracted by the shouting and people were pulling at him, lying him down and something rough was being wrapped around his wrist. He drifted off for a moment and when he next woke it was to the sound of sirens and he could see the lights of the ambulance in his peripheral vision as he was bundled onto a stretcher and carried outside. 

They would take him to hospital now. They would stitch his wrist and probably give him blood and inevitably a trip to psych would be on the cards. He wasn't going to die. This time.

He would do better next time.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It hurt somehow more than losing his parents. Of course Jarvis had been more of a parent in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbetaed and all mistakes are my own. I would love some feedback.
> 
> I'm not entirely happy with this one but I'm now at the point where I'm combing over it again and again and getting nowhere but frustrated with it so I figured I would just let you guys have it and make of it what you will. Thanks for all the kudos and support, it means a lot. 
> 
> I should probably also mention that this is cross posted to FFN under the title All the Reasons Why.

The funeral had been brutal. More so than he remembered his parents funeral being. He had held it together all through the service and through the burial. It was almost funny, his Scotch addled brain decided, that he had sat through all the speeches and the eulogy and watched the only person who had ever given a damn about him go into the ground with dry eyes and it was the wake, with all his well meaning relatives that had finally gotten the best of him.

He had been standing awkwardly by the drinks table, wondering whether he would be better off to just slip out quietly. He didn't know anyone after all, he had never met any of Jarvis's family. Had only intended to stay for the service, to pay his respects and say goodbye to the man who had essentially raised him but had been cajoled into staying for the wake by a couple of Jarvis's cousins.

He wished he had had the strength to refuse. He could feel the eyes on him. People looking at him, obviously wondering what he was doing there. Some of them clearly knew who he was and why he was there and they were apparent by their sympathetic glances and the whispers which stopped when they noticed him looking. He forced himself to relax. He was probably imagining it.

One woman seemed to make up her mind then, breaking off from the group she was standing with to approach him.

He tried not to tense up too visibly and forced a smile at her. He knew it probably looked more like a grimace.

“Hello.” 

“Hi,” He replied hoarsely. God he sounded like a chain smoker. He cleared his throat with a self-conscious little cough and tried again.

“Sorry, hi.”

“I'm Diane. Call me Di. Edwin is my cousin.” She paused, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, I mean he was. Edwin was my cousin.” 

“Oh.” He gave himself a mental kick 'Oh? Is that seriously the best you can do? No wonder he never introduced you to any of these people, they must think you're mentally deficient!

You're Anthony, aren't you? Anthony Stark? The little boy he used to look after? The one in the photographs.” He had to hand it to the woman, she was persistent. Most would have given up on this conversation by now.

“Yeah, uh, I mean yes. Yes, Tony. Tony Stark.” His mind flashed back to Jarvis's tireless efforts to impress good manners upon him and he hastily held out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I mean... not the circumstances but...” He trailed off, seriously considering stuffing an entire slice of Quiche in his mouth just to shut himself up.

Luckily Di seemed to be an easygoing sort because she just smiled and shook her head.

“Its alright, I know what you mean. Nice to meet you Tony. He talked about you a lot you know.”

He blinked at her, momentarily taken aback. “He did?”

“Oh yes, often.” She smiled. 

“Wait, did you say, photographs?” His brain was starting to catch up now and he mentally ran back through their conversation.

“That's right. You're the little boy in the photo's aren't you? The ones on his mantle.”

“I...I don't... I'm not sure. I don't ever remember him taking pictures.” The thought of Jarvis having pictures of him somehow made him feel even worse for not having seen him before he died, for not having stayed in more regular contact.

“I'll show you.” She offered. “I have them upstairs, you can keep them if you want.” Before he could refuse she had disappeared upstairs and returned with two framed photographs which she handed to him.

They were indeed of him. In the first he was about 10 years old, sitting on his bedroom floor surrounded by bits of machinery and trailing wires and grinning up at the camera. He thought he vaguely remembered it being taken. Jarvis appearing in his doorway, demanding to know what on earth he was doing and couldn't he do it a little more tidily? The butler had then disappeared and reappeared shortly after with a camera, trying and failing to look stern and he took the shot and instructed his errant charge to “Pick up after yourself for goodness sake before your mother sees it or she'll be hanged for the both of us!”

He blinked back tears at the memory but lost the battle with them entirely when he turned the other over.

It showed a much younger Tony, perhaps six years old, boneless and clearly half asleep in Jarvis's arms. His head was drooping onto the butlers shoulder, eyes at half mast and obviously fighting sleep. Jarvis was laughing, his expression both fond and slightly exasperated as he cradled the child against him and Tony felt tears stream down his cheeks. He had a faint recollection of Jarvis pacing the lounge on many a night with him in his arms, struggling to stay awake as the rhythm of his steps lulled him relentlessly into sleep. 

He blinked back the tears that were threatening and tried to smile at the woman. She nodded gently in sympathy. 

“I'm going to go see if anyone needs any more drinks, give you a moment. Keep the pictures.” She told him firmly. 

He nodded back and sank down onto the bottom step and tried to compose himself. He stared down at the photos in his lap. They looked like perfectly normal family snaps. No one would have guessed that he was a member of the household staff. He looked like any father trying to get his kid to sleep. He wondered idly who had taken it. Not his parents, certainly, they had never approved of him 'coddling' the boy. Probably one of the other staff.

Suddenly he couldn't stay sitting there any longer. He stood up, grabbed his jacket from the pile in the hallway and headed for the door. He would send Diane a note to thank her for the pictures, he decided and to apologise for his hasty exit.

He felt numb by the time he returned to his apartment. It was a nice apartment. Penthouse. Way better than living on campus at MIT like he had his first year. He tamped down the sudden urge to trash the place and instead moved to the kitchen and poured himself a generous helping of Whisky. 

He didn't much care for the taste of the stuff but he liked the way it burned his throat going down. 

It was 2 hours and most of the bottle later when he noticed the missed call on his phone from Rhodey. He had left him a message earlier, bailing on their plans and simply telling him he had a funeral to go to. He figured his friend was probably worried and he really ought to call him back but he didn't feel he had had anywhere near enough to drink to have that conversation with him. 

Another hour and half a bottle later he was well and truly wasted, pretty sure he had more alcohol than blood in his veins and attempting to dial Rhodey's number on a phone that he was currently seeing three of. The voice that answered was decidedly not Rhodey. Rhodey wasn't a girl last time he checked, at least he was 95% sure he wasn't. 

“S'Rhodey there?” He slurred a little despite his best attempts not to but to her credit the girl didn't sound disgusted at being drunk called at...Oh fuck,was that actually the time? Jesus, he was such a shitty friend.

He didn't have any more time to reconsider his decision to call though because Rhodey's voice was coming on the line. 

“Is that Tony? For fuck sake, he couldn't have called earlier?! Tony? That you, man?”

“Yeah.” He croaked, hating how weak his voice suddenly sounded.

“Dude! Seriously, you leave me a message like that and then don't call me back for hours, I was worried, man! Not cool!”

“Sorry...” His voice wobbled and shit now he was crying again and he just hoped Rhodey couldn't hear his breath hitching.

He obviously could though because his voice softened a little as he asked, “Hey, are you okay? You been drinking?”

“No.” He whispered.

“No what? No, you're not okay or no, you haven't been drinking and if you say the second one, I'm calling bullshit.”

“Not okay.” He forced out shakily. “Really fucking not okay.”

There was a brief silence on the line before Rhodey responded. 

“Okay, stay there, I'm coming over.”

The line went dead and Tony stared at it for a moment before sinking back onto the sofa with the bottle and taking another swig, grimacing at the taste. Logically he knew he was well on his way to alcohol poisoning but part of him couldn't help thinking it would be really nice to just go to sleep and not ever have to wake up. He took another long swallow.

He was barely even conscious when Rhodey arrived and lifted him off the floor, demanding to know how much he had had and looking slightly horrified when Tony gestured vaguely at the empty bottles in lieu of an answer. 

The next few hours were a blur as he drifted in and out. He remembered waking up vomiting once, Rhodey holding a bucket for him and trying to get him to drink water before he passed out again to the sound of Rhodey calling for an ambulance.

He was hazily aware of Rhodey pulling him into his lap and holding him as he cried and mumbled slurred apologies that he was fairly sure were incomprehensible. The rocking was nice though so he stayed there, not that he thought he could have moved anyway.

When he next woke it was to the sterile looking white walls of a hospital room. He turned his head to the side and was irrationally relieved to see Rhodey sitting there. He probably shouldn't be. This was way, way up there in the list of stupid reckless shit he had done and lets face it the guy was probably gearing up to pitch a fit but still he was glad of the familiar face. 

Thankfully Rhodey didn't seem inclined towards chewing him out, at least not right now.

“Hey, there. You awake?” He asked, oddly gentle.

“Hi.” Tony croaked back. Rhodey stood and reached over for a cup on the nightstand before helping him lift his head enough to take a few ice chips, waiting for it to melt on his tongue.

“You seriously scared the shit out of me, man.” Rhodey spoke again and Tony noticed for the first time how tired and freaked out he looked.

“You had alcohol poisoning. They pumped your stomach. Another hour and you could've died!” His voice was slightly higher pitched than usual and it was that more than his words that brought it home to Tony just how close he had come. 

“Sorry.” He whispered.

Rhodey blew out a breath and looked him straight in the eyes. “I don't ever want to see that again, do you get me? You...you call me, Tony, if it ever gets that bad again I want you to call me and don't you dare touch a single drink until I get there.” His voice broke at the end and guilt swamped Tony for putting him through this. He shouldn't have called. 

“Promise me!” Rhodey's voice cracked like a whip, making him jump a little. “Look, I get it, alright, I saw the photos but... just promise me, okay?”

“I promise.” He wasn't sure why he said it. He had absolutely no intention of keeping that promise but he would have said anything to get that look off his friend's face.

“Good.” Rhodey sounded relieved and Tony felt another little pang of guilt at lying to him. “You owe me big time man. There was puke.”

“I distinctly remember getting it in the bucket.” He protested.

“Yeah, the second time!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight with his fellow Avengers is the last straw and Tony NEEDS to give Jarvis more loopholes in his protocols.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for suicide attempt (if this is a trigger, seriously, what are you still doing here?)  
> Unbetaed, feedback and comments are adored and cherished.  
> Steve/Tony if you squint. Okay maybe not that much squinting.
> 
> Sorry this took so long, I'm a horrible updater and AoU messed me up! Seriously, as if I wasn't bad enough before, now everything I write turns into the Tony and Jarvis show.
> 
> Also I am SORRY about the formatting and whacked out spacing. It was this or a solid wall of text. I cannot get it to do paragraphs, it won't have it and I'm sick of messing with it.

“ _What use are you if you can't follow directions in the field? Worse than useless, Stark, you're a liability!”_

The words rang in his ears as he stormed down to the workshop, fuming. What the hell did Steve know! If he had followed orders that man would be dead. As it was, there was no way he could have reached the car before the spiderbot did. Did Steve even realise how many LEGS those things had? All he did was cut the casualty list from 64 to 63.

By the time he entered the workshop his fury was beginning to subside, replaced by the familiar exhaustion and trembling of a post battle crash when the adrenaline inevitably wore off.

He sank onto the workbench before his legs gave out on him and accepted the smoothie that Dummy handed him with a suspicious sniff before looking up at Jarvis' nearest sensor array for confirmation.

“It is safe to drink sir although perhaps...inadvisable.”

“Not toxic though?” He checked.

“No, sir.”

He took a tentative sip and nearly gagged.

“Wha... Jarvis, what did he PUT in this?”

“I believe I would be acting in Dummy's best interests to withhold that information.”

Tony blinked at him a few times before nodding. “Yeah, probably for the best. Thanks for the warning.”

“You are welcome, sir. If I may? Perhaps you should consider eating something of the non liquid variety?”

He thought about it for a moment before deciding that his churning stomach probably couldn't handle it right now.

“Maybe in a while, J. For now just put us in lockdown okay.”

Jarvis didn't reply but did as he asked, locking down the workshop and raising the temperature a few degrees before Tony even noticed he was shivering.

He pulled up his latest project files for Stark industries and tried his best to concentrate. His focus was broken though by the sound of someone pounding insistently on the door. He forced himself not to look round. He couldn't ignore it for long though and eventually sat upright, scrubbing his hands through his hair.

His heart sank when he saw Steve standing there looking absolutely furious.

“Open this door, Tony!”

“Sir, your blood pressure and heart rate are becoming cause for concern.” Jarvis spoke up worriedly.

Tony rubbed absently at the wristband he always wore during battles and sometimes just from day to day that allowed Jarvis to monitor his vitals and gave his AI what he hoped was a reassuring smile. It felt more like a grimace.

“Let him in, J. Might as well get this over with.”

Jarvis made a familiar staticky sound of disapproval as he slid the doors open, almost making Tony smile at the sheer volume of attitude he managed to convey. As a baby AI, Jarvis had made frequent and creative use of white noise to express himself when he didn't have the words to get his point across.

He hadn't done that in years but still sometimes used it in lieu of sighing or even as an insult when the occasion merited it.

His attention was drawn away from Jarvis as Steve marched in, scowl on his face.

“So this is what you do, huh? Don't you think you should be helping with the clean up out there?”

Tony swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the dull ache in his chest getting worse and he wondered idly if the reactor had taken more damage than he had initially thought.

“I can't right now, Cap.” He managed, throat tight. “Things to do.”

Steve's face darkened, lips pressing into a thin line as he visibly tried to calm himself.

“Are you serious right now?” He demanded. “I have to go and visit an elderly couple and apologise for the fact that they just lost their son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter because my team can't follow orders and you're sitting there telling me that you're too damn BUSY to come and help with the clean up efforts!”

Tony was about to snap back when he realised that he couldn't force words out through the tightness in his chest. It took him a few more seconds to recognise the symptoms of an oncoming panic attack and he tried to force himself to breathe slowly.

Steve took a step forward and for a moment Tony thought Steve was about to shake him but he was stopped by Jarvis' sharp intervention.

“Captain Rogers, I must insist that you calm down and step away from sir.”

“Stay out of this, Jarvis.” Steve warned. “I'm not going to hurt him but I need him to understand...”

“I will not allow you to distress him any further.” The A.I.'s tone was final and Steve's face twisted in contempt for a moment before he replied.

“Fine, stay down here and hide behind your robots. God forbid you actually take some responsibility for your actions.” With that, Steve turned and stormed out of the workshop.

 

Tony sank down onto the floor, resting his back against his workbench and concentrated on breathing in time with Jarvis's insistent coaching. He felt the panic finally starting to recede and he lowered his head until his forehead was resting on his knees, ignoring the damp patches his tears were making on his jeans and blocking out everything but the glow of the reactor under his shirt, the tentative touch of Dummy and You's claws against his back as they tugged on his clothing in concern and Jarvis's voice reassuring him that he was all right, the arc reactor was all right, everything was _fine._

He sat there for a few more minutes, letting himself calm down before lifting his head.

“The reactor?” He asked hoarsely.

“Undamaged.” Jarvis informed him. “There is significant bruising and swelling around the casing which is most likely causing the pain and sensation of pressure that I _know_ you are experiencing... Sir, please do not do insult us both by attempting to lie to me.”

Tony closed his mouth.

He pulled himself upright, using the bench for support and weaved his way towards the door.

“Sir?” Jarvis sounded confused. “Sir I must insist that you sit down. You are in no condition to be moving around.”

He ignored the AI in favour of grappling with the cupboard door that was currently keeping him away from his scotch and finally glared up at the ceiling when he realised that it was electronically sealed.

“I swear to God, Jarvis...”

“I will not permit you to drink with a concussion, sir”

“Fucking...God damn you!” He screamed, throwing the screwdriver he had been using to try and pry the door open at Jarvis's nearest camera. “You of all fucking people! For Christ's sake, J, can't you just be on my side?”

“I am always on your side.”

The calm statement of fact had him sliding down the door to sit on the floor again as the tears made a reappearance. He knew the truth of it, of course. He had just really needed to hear it. Even Clint hadn't spoken to him on the way back. Not a single one of them had so much as looked at him, maintaining an icy, furious silence. Even when he had tried to hand Bruce another blanket, his team mate had simply pushed his hand away and joined the others up the front.

He pulled in an unsteady breath, wiping at his cheeks and already feeling foolish for his outburst at Jarvis.

“I know, buddy. I know you are.”

It was hours before he moved, back and legs stiff from sitting on the floor for so long and the movement pulled painfully at the long cut on his upper leg from where a jagged piece of the suit had sliced it. He poked tentatively at it and decided it wasn't deep enough to need stitches.

 

He was surprised no one had been down yet, even if only to yell at him. Bruce was usually pretty firm about getting injuries looked at, no matter how minor they were or how monumentally stupid the team mate in question had been while getting them. But then, he reminded himself, Steve had seen the wound when he had been in the workshop before. He had to have seen it, there was far too much blood on Tony's jeans for him to have missed it and he hadn't said anything.

 

Steve.

 

Normally such a mother hen when one of them was injured. It was the most aggravating thing in the world most of the time, especially when he teamed up with Jarvis and he had both of them bitching at him. What he wouldn't give to be on the receiving end of it now.

 

He raked his hands through his hair in frustration, berating himself inwardly for acting like a child. This was stupid for fucks sake. He was being ridiculous, he knew it. Grown men did not hide in basement workshops for hours on end because their team mates wouldn't talk to them. Grown men didn't have panic attacks over an argument that wasn't even physical and get themselves into such a state that their AI had to intervene on their behalf. And they sure as fuck didn't scream and throw screwdrivers at the aforementioned AI for not letting him drink with a concussion.

 

Tony finally pulled himself upright and wobbled his way over to the bathroom, tugging gently on You's claws as the bot clicked them anxiously at him and running light fingers over the holotable as he passed it. He smiled a little when it lit up at his touch, following his fingers with a trail of light; Jarvis, reaching out to him in the only way he knew how.

 

Closing the door behind him he stared into the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, hollow eyed and tired. Skin so pale it was almost ashen. He looked exhausted.

 

He looked dead.

 

A shudder ran through his body and he pushed away the morbid thought. He had enough nightmare material without comparing himself to a corpse.

Averting his eyes from his reflection he pulled open the cabinet, not wanting to look at his own face any longer. He pulled out a bottle of painkillers and shook five into his palm, swallowing them dry before easing himself down onto the couch in the corner.

He considered for a moment and then tipped a few more into his hand before thinking 'fuck it' and tossing back the rest of the remaining pills in the bottle.

 

“Sir, that dosage is not advisable!” He felt a slight pang of guilt at the alarm in his AI's voice.

Poor Jarvis. He didn't deserve to witness this.

“Sorry, baby.” He murmured, closing his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Upstairs, an hour later, the other avengers were finally starting to unwind a little and calm down after the adrenaline of the battle.

With the exception of Thor, who had gone to check on Jane in the aftermath of the destruction, they were all gathered around the table.

 

“I feel kind of bad.” Steve admitted, resting his chin in his hand. “I honestly was this close to hitting him. Jarvis actually threw me out.”

“Seriously?” Clint sat up a little straighter. “Like he flat out told you to get out?”

“Pretty much.” Steve confirmed wearily. “Told me to get away from him because I was upsetting him.”

“The people in that car got a bit worse than _upset!_ ” Clint snapped indignantly. “I'll fucking upset him!” He started to rise from his seat before Natasha grabbed him arm and pulled him back down.

“I'm angry with him too.” She said calmly. “But in hindsight I don't think he could've gotten to them in time. Maybe he really was just going for the one he knew he could save.”

“Even so. We need to rely on him to have our backs in a battle and if he's not where he's supposed to be...” Bruce finally chimed in. He looked exhausted and haggard, the transformation clearly having taken its toll.

Steve sighed. “I shouldn't have lost it like that with him though. I'm supposed to be the leader here and I went way over the line. I called him useless and a liability, nearly hit him and then left him down there to deal with his own injuries. What kind of a leader does that?”

“A human one.” Natasha said firmly. “You're just a person, Steve, we all lose our tempers from time to time and lets face it, Stark pushes your buttons at the best of times.”

“Was he injured then?” Bruce interjected, frowning slightly.

Steve nodded. “I don't think it's too bad, he was walking okay but his jeans were bloody. Just a cut I think.”

Bruce opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a panicked sounding Jarvis.

“Sir requires immediate medical intervention in the workshop. All areas are now accessible. Please hurry.”

The other Avengers were up and moving almost before he had finished speaking.

 

“What happened, Jarvis?” Natasha demanded as the elevator descended at a speed Steve was sure it shouldn't be capable of.

“Sir has exceeded the safe dosage of painkillers and lost consciousness. I am unable to rouse him and his vitals are destabilising.”

“How many did he take? Was it deliberate?”

Silence.

“Jarvis?!”

“I am prohibited from supplying that information!” If Steve had ever doubted Jarvis was sentient, those doubts were gone in that moment. The AI sounded positively frantic, his frustration at his protocols obvious.

 

Clint swore colourfully as he spotted Tony slumped across his couch and made a beeline out of the elevator and across the room to him.

 

 

Steve dropped down next to him, hands immediately fumbling for a pulse, his own heart almost stopping when he couldn't find one. He forced himself to calm down and pressed his fingers harder under Tony's jaw until he felt it throbbing sluggishly. He grabbed Tony by the shoulders and shook him hard until Bruce pushed him away and lifted Tony's eyelids to check his pupils.

 

“Stark! Stark, wake up! On your feet, Avenger!” Even the booming military tone didn't seem to penetrate although Tony did screw his eyes up and mumble something incomprehensible.

 

“God Damn, Jarvis, why didn't you call us earlier!”

“Don'.. mad at him...” Tony slurred from the couch, making Steve's eyes snap back to him

“Stark?”

“No...not his fault. Made sure...Made sure he couldn't. M'sorry, baby...” Steve was fairly sure the last was directed at Jarvis who didn't respond, presumably busy talking to the paramedics whom he was directing down to the workshop.

 

Bruce made a strangled noise and pushed himself up from the ground.

“Bruce?” Steve sounded alarmed.

“Hulk room. Sorry.” He managed to force out as he staggered towards the stairs, his skin already an alarming shade of green. Steve considered briefly whether someone ought to go with him but his attention was drawn back to Tony when he realised the other man had lost consciousness again.

 

Clint leaned over and slapped his cheek lightly. “Stay awake, Tony! Don't go back to sleep! You gotta talk to me, buddy, tell me what you took.”

“All of em!” Tony let out a mirthless slurred giggle. “Took all the pills!”

Natasha stood up and moved quickly into the bathroom. She yanked open the cabinet and rummaged through it. “Which ones, Jarvis? Was it these?” She held up an empty bottle.

“How many did he take?” A distressed burst of static was her only answer and she cursed violently in Russian. “Right of course you can't tell me.”

 

She ran back out into the workshop and held out the bottle to one of the medics who was currently on his knees beside Tony, strapping an oxygen mask over his face.

“I think this is what he took. I don't know how... wait, Jarvis? How much was in this bottle yesterday?”

The answer came immediately and Jarvis sounded relieved to be of help as he replied.

 

“That bottle was slightly more than half full yesterday, Agent Romanoff.”

The medic jumped nearly a foot in the air at the disembodied voice but recovered quickly.

“Well, Mr Stark when you do something you certainly don't do it in half measures. He's going to have to come with us to hospital. One of you can ride in the ambulance, anyone else will have to follow.”

He and his partner hoisted Tony efficiently onto a stretcher and made for the elevator.

“Steve, you go with him, I'll check on Bruce then Clint and I can follow.” Natasha seemed to be swiftly taking control of the situation and Steve couldn't help but be glad of it. He felt numb with shock and the knowledge that one of his team had been taking his own life while they sat upstairs drinking cocoa.

He offered Natasha a dazed nod and followed them into the elevator, forcing himself not to be sick as it rocketed upwards.

 

He threw up twice in the ambulance. Thankfully Tony wasn't awake to see it but it still made him feel even guiltier.

He had answered as many of their questions about Tony's medical history as he could and eventually just handed the woman his phone and had her talk to Jarvis who filled in the many gaps.

By the time Clint, Natasha and an extremely pale, shaky Bruce arrived Steve felt ready to climb the walls. Natasha gripped his hand firmly, helping to still the trembles and leaned up against his shoulder.

“It wasn't your fault.” She murmured.

“It was.” He replied, having to force the words past the lump in his throat. “I drove him to this. A gibbering idiot could have seen that he wasn't okay. Jarvis tried to tell me but I...” He broke off, holding back a sob.

Bruce shook his head tiredly. “Tony hasn't been particularly stable, Steve, not for a long time. This wasn't his first attempt.”

Three heads lifted in unison to stare at him and he shrugged looking uneasy; he wondered a little too late whether he should have betrayed that confidence but supposed that they needed to know. After all it threw this latest attempt into a new light.

“He told me. One night when we were down in the lab. We were talking about the other guy. About how I tried to...well you know. He said he got it. When I pushed he told me that he'd tried too. Said he got low and just snapped. Wanted an end to it. He tried twice. Once when he was a teenager and again after he lost someone. He wouldn't say who, just that it wasn't his parents.”

Bruce shifted uncomfortably at the incredulous stares directed at him.

“Look, it was a long time ago from what he said. I swear if I had thought he might be a danger to himself I'd have said something! It's not like I haven't been there, I get what it's like to want out. If I'd known he was that low...”

“Christ, Bruce! Even if he wasn't, don't you think that's something I needed to know?” Steve looked furious and Bruce instantly felt himself becoming defensive.

“Why?! Why the hell do you think you have the right to know... Sorry can we help you?” He stopped his tirade and put on a polite tone with sheer force of will as he addressed the nurse who was standing a few feet away looking slightly starstruck.

"Um, you all came in with Mr Stark?"

* * *

 

 

Tony woke slowly to the sound of voices both loud and faraway.

 

“...can't stay long, he should be resting...appointment with the psychiatric team.”

 

He forced his eyes open but they felt so heavy that after a few seconds he just let them slip closed again, drifting back off. The next time he came to, it was to the unfamiliar sensation of fingers stroking through his hair. It was nice, reassuring and he wondered vaguely who it was. Not Pepper, she had longer nails. Rhodey wasn't the hair petting type.

He dragged his eyelids upwards with more determination than it usually took to drag Dum-E into an upgrade station and squinted. Oh. Well it was official. He had failed and the price of his failure was going to be enduring Cap's kicked puppy face for the foreseeable future.

Maybe he could just go back to sleep for a little while.

“Tony?!”

Nope, okay, sleep not an option then.

“Tony are you awake? I think he's awake.” The last directed over his shoulder to the other Avengers.

The others moved into his field of vision, swimming nauseatingly into focus and Bruce leaned over to peer at his eyes.

“Hey, Tony. You with us?”

He blinked a few times before trying to speak; his mouth was dry and his throat felt like it had been sandpapered.

Bruce picked up a cup of half melted ice chips from beside the bed and helped him to swallow a few of them.

“Better?”

“Yeah.” He croaked.

They sat, or laid in Tony's case, in awkward silence for several minutes before Steve finally spoke up.

“For God's sake, why?”

“Steve.” Natasha cautioned.

 

Tony didn't respond, just stared intently at the opposite wall.

 

“Why, Tony?! Why the hell did you do it?”

“Why do you care?!” Tony burst out, finally.

 

For a moment Steve was left speechless. How could he even think that. They were team mates; they were _friends_! Did he seriously think that they didn't even care?

 

Tony was shaking now, his cheeks flushed and his eyes suspiciously bright. The hand returned to his hair and he felt tears starting to slide down his temples. The bed dipped slightly as Clint and Bruce sat down on the edges. Another hand gripped his tightly. Natasha.

 

“We care.” She told him firmly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, all that are still around anyway... Yep, I know, my idea of soon needs some work. This chapter was a struggle tbh because it doesn't technically fit with the rest. It starts off dealing with Tony's issues and trauma and ended up dealing more with Jarvis's instead. It was actually supposed to go the same way as the other chapters but just...didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Aside from the usual triggers which are obviously not a problem or you wouldn't still be here, this chapter is quite a bit darker at the beginning imo, although it does get lighter towards the end, which I'm not sure if I'm happy with or not. Its has some fairly graphic imagery and I actually struggled with whether or not to upload it at all as I found it fairly disturbing to write. For some of you I imagine it is probably quite tame but others could be badly affected so if anyone is easily disturbed then possibly best read end notes first. It spawned from a news article that I found extremely upsetting to the point that I still think about it years later. Pretty sure it traumatised me and the beginning of this chapter is me working through that.

 

 

Steve pulled off his cowl and wiped his face with it as he looked around for his team, taking a mental head count.

Clint: clinging precariously to the side of a building as he made his way down. Falling more than climbing but he looked okay.

Natasha: evacuating a group of terrified civilians with perhaps a little more force than was really necessary.

Tony: flying overhead scanning for any life signs. The armour was a little dented and scraped up but he appeared largely uninjured.

Thor was loudly engaging the last of the centipedes, mocking their parentage between blows. Steve doubted they could even understand English but didn't bother stopping him.

A loud roar and the sound of a car hitting the side of a building clued him into the Hulk's whereabouts.

He stared around at the wreckage on the streets with dismay. The Avengers had been pretty late to the party. The enormous centipedes had appeared fairly docile at first and Tony's scans had confirmed no weaponry. They still had no idea what had happened to make the creatures turn so violent so suddenly but it had quickly become painfully clear that they didn't need weapons to be deadly. They just ate.

In hindsight they should have foreseen it. It was common knowledge that even garden variety centipedes were carnivorous.

The carnage was enough to make his stomach roll. Blood. Everywhere. So much blood he could smell it. Some of the bodies weren't even recognisable as people anymore. Men, women and children alike had simply been torn apart where they stood, too stunned by the sudden aggression even to run. Not that they could have gotten away if they had tried.

He was broken from his thoughts by Tony's voice coming over the comms.

“Hey, Cap, I see movement over there in the bus. Pretty sure it's a survivor. I'm gonna check it out.”

“Be careful.” Steve murmured back automatically, still scanning around for signs of more centipedes.

“Will do.” Tony sounded a little off. Strained and on edge. He debated for a second whether to order Tony back, what with his track record for hiding injuries but he supposed they were all a little edgy. The damn things had very nearly overcome them and this was by far the biggest loss of life the Avengers had had so far.

He looked back over at Clint to find him on the ground with his arm around a shaking, pale faced, Bruce.

“It's okay.” Clint was saying. “It wasn't you. None of this was the Hulk.”

His heart ached briefly for Bruce, knowing how afraid the other man was. This sort of scene upon transforming back was his worst nightmare. Natasha came up on Clint's other side. She was bruised and pale but with a steely look in her eyes that he knew meant she was already repressing any and all emotion. He hated it when she did that. She and Clint both. He knew they did it for their own sanity. Knew that they had seen and done things that they couldn't face up to and this particular coping strategy would probably never be unlearned but he still wished they wouldn't.

 

Thor was last to approach, looking somewhat more composed than the rest of them but with a dark, haunted look in his eyes as he took in the sheer brutality of the massacre. Steve supposed that Thor had seen worse in his time and wasn't as easily affected by the horror of it. But even he looked vaguely ill at the sight of some of the bodies.

The comm crackled to life again, pulling them all from their stupor.

“Guys! ….Help....here! Fucking son of a...!”

There was a loud crash before they could even respond and the sound of repulsors discharging and then a worrying silence.

“Tony!” Steve snapped into the comm as they all sprinted towards the crashed bus in the next block that Tony had been going to check out.

“Iron Man, report! Tony, what's going on?”

It was several seconds before Tony replied.

“I'm here. It's dead. Jesus fucking Christ...” Steve let out a sigh of relief, or as much as he could while running full pelt.

“We're coming, we're on our way. Are you hurt?”

Tony took a moment to answer and they could all hear his unsteady breathing as he presumably composed himself before replying, his voice wobbling slightly.

“It was...God, Steve, it was a fucking school bus.”

Steve's stomach hit the floor. He knew from Tony's shaky breaths and the slightly higher tone of voice what they were going to find.

They rounded the corner and slowed as they approached the bus, none of them wanting to be first to go in. Bruce shook his head and said quietly.

“I don't think it's a good idea that I go in there.”

“Probably wise.” Steve replied.

Natasha reached for Bruce's arm.

“I'll stay with him.”

 

Steve nodded and as if by unspoken agreement, he, Clint and Thor moved forward together. The bus was miraculously upright but had smashed pretty forcefully into the wall. He braced himself as he stepped inside, sensing the other two doing the same.

It was horrific. There was no other word for it. The centipede was dead, as Tony had said, strewn across a row of seats with a hole blown through its middle. The children were...Steve tried not to look at them, feeling a stab of guilt for averting his eyes but unable to bring himself to look closely.

Tony was on the floor. He was out of the armour, wearing only the undersuit and cradling a girl in his lap. She looked to have been about 10, long dark hair matted with blood. Her lower body was mangled, half of it missing. Steve felt his stomach rising up his throat and swallowed hard. He heard Clint gagging behind him and turning to run outside but he didn't take his eyes off his teammate.

Tony looked utterly wrecked. His face was ashen, tears having left trails through the dust on his cheeks and his eyes were strangely blank. Shock, Steve's mind supplied. Tony was in shock. He took a tentative step forward and crouched beside him.

“Tony?” He said softly.

Tony looked up at him.

“She's dead. I killed it but I was too late. It was... it was fucking eating her, Steve...” His voice broke.

“Okay. Come on, Tony. We need to get you outside. Come on.” He coaxed, tugging gently on Tony's arm.

“I can't...I can't just leave her...”

“She's gone, Tony.” His own voice cracked a little but he forced strength into it as he pulled harder. “I'm so sorry but we can't help them.”

Thor eased in behind him, taking Tony's other arm and lifting him and between them, they half carried their teammate out of the bus, the armour following behind them like a sentry.

Outside Natasha was sitting next to Clint on the kerb, hand moving steadily over his back and he could tell even without seeing Clint's face that the other Avenger was silently crying. Her face was carefully blank but he could see how much it cost her to keep it that way.

His attention was brought back to Tony by the sudden heaving of his friend's body as he doubled over and emptied his stomach onto the pavement. Thor wrapped an arm around his chest to support him as he vomited again and again, finally subsiding into gasps and dry retching.

Steve reached for his comm and gave the all clear for Emergency Services to come in while Thor led Tony away to sit on the kerb with his back to the bus. A quick call to SHIELD secured them a quick extraction to the nearest hospital and he made his way back and sat down on Tony's other side to wait with his team. They all looked terrible, Tony most of all. He looked somehow smaller than normal, more fragile and was visibly shaking. Steve hesitated for a second and then wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling his quaking body firmly into his own. Tony actually leaned in, much to his surprise. Normally he would rather have jumped off the Quinjet without a suit than let Steve hug him, especially in public.

Clint seemed to have calmed down and was just staring into space, Natasha pressed up against his side, sitting as close as humanly possible. Bruce may or may not have fallen asleep, propped against Thor who was sitting against Tony's other side, radiating warmth like a space heater.

His attention was drawn briefly by sirens in the distance and the news helicopter circling overhead and if he'd had the energy he would have been disgusted that a news crew was present even before the Emergency services arrived. He knew that their picture would be all over the papers the next morning, beaten, bloodied and huddled together for comfort; it would probably even make the evening news and he considered whether to tell his team to put on a brave face but dismissed the thought almost as soon as he had it. Everyone was exhausted and in shock and in no condition to be worrying about public opinion. He rested his chin on Tony's head and shut his eyes, praying for SHIELD to hurry up.

* * *

The debrief was brutal. They had been extracted from the scene as quickly and efficiently as possible but of course Nick Fury had wanted to know exactly how such a colossal fuck-up had happened. Tony had said nothing the entire time and Steve suspected he would have flown back to the tower himself if he hadn't already sent the suit ahead with instructions to JARVIS to start repairing the damage from the battle.

Despite how badly the massacre had affected them all, the whole team had rallied and Steve felt a flicker of pride at the way they closed ranks around Tony. Not that anyone was blaming him in particular for what had happened and he had seen them do it before with Bruce, the one most likely to be kicked when he was down but Tony, who had always been on the outskirts of the group, was currently their most vulnerable member and watching them protectively wall him off from the Director's ire warmed him a little.

He watched them all anxiously as they arrived back at the Tower, uneasy about anyone being out of his sight for too long. Tony was getting paler by the minute and Clint looked utterly done.

Thankfully it was Thor who suggested that they all refresh themselves and gather back in the common room for a movie. Everyone nodded tired agreement and slouched off to their respective floors to shower and get 5 minutes privacy to pull their shit together.

Steve stepped out of the shower, towelling off and dressing quickly. He didn't want to leave any of the team alone for too long, especially not Tony or Bruce with their history of self harm. Jarvis was on high alert, had locked down anything alcoholic and would have alarms blaring as soon as his Sir so much as opened a medicine cabinet but he still thought actual human supervision would be preferable.

3 hours later Steve couldn't have told what they had watched. He didn't remember a minute of it and doubted any of the others did either. Bruce was dozing lightly in an armchair, Natasha and Tony staring blankly into space and Clint slumped half asleep against the arm of the sofa, feet jammed under Tony's leg. Thor was faring better than most of them but even he was sitting closer to Steve than normal and the solid warmth of him was reassuring. So reassuring in fact, that it was making his eyes feel heavy.

He vaguely thought about suggesting that they all go to bed but then reconsidered. If everyone was comfortable where they were, it was better that they all stayed together. Besides, he was far too comfortable to move.

 

* * *

 

_He entered the bus cautiously, scanning for life signs as he went. There were bodies everywhere and he knew if he removed the helmet, the smell of death would be overwhelming. He could see movement between the seats and readied a repulsor. He was going to blow this vile creature to kingdom come._

_He edged forward carefully, wanting to hit it at point blank range. If he didn't manage to kill it immediately a fight in such close quarters might not go so well for him._

_As he got closer he became aware of a different sound. Wet chewing noises and the rasp of breath. A hand reaching out and closing around the edge of the seats. He took a step nearer and the girl's face came into view. Agony was written on her features, mouth and eyes wide open, staring at him but she wasn't screaming. Perhaps she couldn't. He must have made some kind of sound because the creature raised its head and lunged towards him. Its mandibles were sticky and stringy with gore and Tony staggered back yelling into his comm for backup and swearing as he fired at it with everything he had. It fell back, screeching and writhing and he hesitated for a second to be sure there was no chance of it getting up again before dropping to the ground next to the girl._

_She was staring up at him, breath coming in choked off gasps and he raised his hands to pull off the helmet and disengage the armour. He crawled out, still on his knees and grabbed his backup comm_  
_from where it was pinned to his undersuit to answer Steve who was loudly demanding a response. He informed Cap that the centipede was dead and that he wasn't injured and after a second he told him, with only a slight wobble, about the kids._

_Knowing that the rest of the team were on the way, he reached for the girl. She still hadn't made a noise and Tony was pretty sure she couldn't have even had she tried. He pulled her head into his lap, trying not to move her too much and stroked her hair out of her face with shaking fingers._

_“It's okay.” He told her but his voice came out hoarse and trembling and sounding anything but reassuring. He cleared his throat slightly and tried again._

_“It's okay, sweetheart, it's dead. You're gonna be okay, we'll get you out of here and you'll be fine.”_

_Her lips parted slightly but no sound emerged. She clearly knew though that she was not going to be fine. Tony tried to smile at her, swiping at the tears on her face with his thumbs but her breaths were coming shallower and more laboured and even as he watched, the lines of pain and tension disappeared from her face. He kept eye contact even as hers lost focus and it took him several seconds to realise that she had stopped breathing._

Tony woke choking, bile burning his throat as he gagged. He sat up, swallowing convulsively and clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to breathe slowly and deeply through his nose.

“Sir?” Jarvis's voice was hesitant, concerned but Tony couldn't answer him, too busy fighting down another gag. He dry heaved a few more times, becoming seriously worried that he was actually going to throw up all over the common room.

“Sir? Should I wake the others? Do you need...”

“It's okay, J.” Tony forced out, finally managing to clamp down on his stomach. “It's okay, just...give me a minute.”

He sat there for several minutes, just breathing and trying not to wake the others as Jarvis spoke to him in hushed tones; nothing particularly meaningful but his AI's voice was a soothing balm to his raw nerves.

He eventually calmed down and stood to go to the bathroom, causing Jarvis's reassuring monologue to cease mid sentence as he lost his balance and grabbed for the back of the sofa. After a moment he regained his equilibrium and made his way, only slightly unsteadily down the hallway to the nearest bathroom.

“Sir, I do not think it is advisable for you to be alone.” His AI sounded anxious and on edge and Tony felt for him, he really did. It was his fault, after all, that Jarvis was so uneasy now when Tony was upset.

He couldn't remember much of what had happened after he took the pills but he did remember Jarvis trying to rouse him, his voice taking on an increasingly hysterical tone when he realised that he was being prevented from summoning help. It was only an old protocol from when he had still used palladium in the Arc Reactor that had allowed Jarvis to ask for assistance when his heart began to fail.

He could recall Cap trying to wake him up and shouting at Jarvis and Jarvis's distressed bursts of static as he tried to communicate. Tony had roused himself just enough to defend his friend and apologise for making him complicit in this.

He had never told Jarvis about his previous attempts at ending his life. The AI was aware that he had tried, of course but only in an academic sense; he had never really talked to him about it. Witnessing his most recent attempt had been extremely traumatic for his AI and he had been unsettled, insecure and what Tony could only describe as 'clingy' ever since.

Had he been human, Tony would have insisted that he talk to someone. However, finding a counsellor to treat an emotionally traumatised, sentient computer was no small task.

He had tried to encourage Jarvis to open up to him but had gotten precisely nowhere. The one time he had pressed the issue and attempted to question him on the subject, Jarvis had clammed up, diverted the conversation and resorted to following Tony around with the armour for 2 days. Tony's only explanation for that was that Jarvis was worried that talking about it would trigger a relapse.

Tony had eventually given up trying to reassure him and simply taken the hovering and over-protectiveness with good grace. Truthfully, it kind of stung that J wouldn't talk to him. They had never kept secrets before. But then he supposed this wasn't really a secret. It was painfully obvious what the problem was, his AI just didn't want to voice it.

He realised that he had been staring into space for almost a minute and shook himself out of it.

“I'm just going to pee, no need to freak out.” He forced his voice to come out strong and steady and like a man who was absolutely coping right now.

He shut the bathroom door and did his business, taking care not to even look askance at the cabinet and pretending he didn't notice the soft hum of a electromagnetic lock. There was nothing in there even remotely lethal but Jarvis was understandably jumpy and he didn't want to give him any excuse to insist on a chaperone.

Wandering back into the common room he briefly considered waking the others. The nightmare had left him uneasy and restless and he could do with a distraction but they all looked so exhausted. Even Thor was pale faced and tired.

He sank back onto the couch, resisting the urge to get himself a stiff drink and after a moment switched the TV back on, lowering the volume so it wouldn't wake anyone.

He must have drifted off at some point because the next thing he was aware of was the smell of eggs and bacon cooking and the sounds of Clint and Natasha talking quietly. He opened his eyes, forcing himself into a sitting position and looked around. Steve was still asleep, chin on his chest and that was going to be one hell of a crick in his neck when he woke up but the others were gone, presumably in the kitchen.

Tony hauled himself up with more effort than the manoeuvre probably warranted and swayed his way towards the kitchen, rubbing at his gritty eyes and giving Steve a shake on his way past.

 

* * *

 

“How are you doing?”

Natasha dropped a slice of bread in the frying pan and shook it, all the while avoiding Clint's eyes. She knew he wouldn't give her an honest answer while she was looking at him, it was his thing, he couldn't help it. His immediate reaction to someone making eye contact and asking him a personal question was to lie.

He sighed. “Okay, I guess. I just can't... I can't get the sight out of my head. And the smell. I keep thinking I can still smell blood and death and...”

He ran a hand roughly through his hair before continuing. “I'm glad you didn't see it. I wish I hadn't seen it. Poor Tony. He was in there watching that little girl...” Clint didn't seem to be able to finish a sentence.

She was still trying to string together a reassurance of some kind; some words that might be of some comfort to him when they were distracted by the door opening.

“Hey.” Tony's voice sounded forced and awkward even to him and he pretended not to notice the glances they exchanged, clearly trying to work out how much he might have overheard.

“Hey, Tony. You uh, you want some breakfast?” Clint held up the pan of bacon he was poking at in offering and Tony's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

“You're cooking?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it safe?”

“Unbelievable!” Clint threw up his hands. “That's fucking gratitude for you!”

Snorts from behind him preceded the arrival of the others and they all gathered around the table to examine the offerings.

“We shall be poisoned as one!” Thor joked half heartedly as he sat down.

Tony and Clint both forced a smile for him but no one laughed.

Breakfast was a quiet, strained affair and only Natasha and Thor were able to eat much but everyone was obviously trying for some degree of normality. Even so, after a while the stilted attempts at conversation subsided and they all sat in near silence. It was a companionable silence though and none of them made any excuse to leave the table. It was almost peaceful. Which was why everyone jumped as though they had been shot when the coffee maker and microwave simultaneously exploded.

Steve leapt up and grabbed the fire extinguisher, spraying powder over the smouldering appliances as Tony grabbed a towel and flapped it wildly under the smoke detector to prevent it going off and adding to his already pounding headache.

“Jarvis, what the Hell!” He demanded.

“Apologies, Sir. A slight malfunction.”

“You think!” Tony looked marginally better now, faced with a crisis he could deal with and back on the familiar ground of trading snark with Jarvis.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, standing and looking up, despite knowing that the AI didn't, in fact, live in the ceiling.

“A power surge?” Steve guessed.

“Jarvis?” Tony prompted.

“Yes, Sir?”  
He sighed. “Don't get cute. What was that?”

The AI hesitated. “A...mistake.”

Even in his fragile and fucked up state, Tony Stark wasn't called a genius for nothing and he immediately picked up on the wording.

“A malfunction or a mistake?”

There was no answer but a faint crackle of static.

“You did that.” It wasn't a question.

“Why? It wasn't an accident, those sockets are protected against surges. What were you trying to do?”

Again, Jarvis didn't respond and Tony felt a twinge of irritation. “Jarvis!” He snapped.

“It was...intended to be a distraction, Sir.” His voice was subdued, clearly reluctant to elaborate but Tony was sick and tired of playing 20 questions. He had no energy for this shit. He wanted explanations damn it!

“Okay, J, you have 30 seconds to give me a straight answer and it had better be good or so help me...” He stopped mid sentence as an image of himself flashed up on the kitchen TV screen.

“Okay...” He squinted. “Nope. Sorry, J man, I'm not seeing it.”

The image shifted, zooming in further, cropping the rest of the team out so that only Tony and part of the work surface was visible.

Tony frowned. “C'mon buddy, help me out here. What's the problem?” Then he saw it and his heart clenched. Fuck. His head dropped into his hands and he took several calming breaths and pulled together every shred of patience and empathy he could muster.

“This has to stop.” He said quietly, not opening his eyes.

“Sir, I...”

“No!” Tony cut him off abruptly. “For Christ's sake, Jarvis! I was just staring into space. Just thinking. I had a headache for crying out... Fuck, I wasn't going to... I can't deal with this!” He stood up, picked up his mug and dumped it into the sink with such force he was surprised it didn't break.

“What's going on?” Clint asked uncertainly.

“Give us a minute.” Tony requested.

“Not until you fill us in.” Steve interjected. “What's wrong, is something the matter with him? Is he malfunctioning?”

“No. No he isn't malfunctioning. He's doing exactly what I built him to do, this isn't his fault.” Tony looked on the verge of tears again but his voice was steady. “This my fault.”

“I don't understand.” Steve sounded completely bemused.

Tony seemed to pull himself together then, standing up straighter.

“Everything's okay, Cap, nothing I can't deal with, but J and I need our privacy for this conversation.”

Steve hesitated, clearly uncertain about leaving him alone and Tony resisted the urge to snap at him. Steve was a good friend. Better than he deserved, he knew that and he hovered because he cared but God it was annoying sometimes.

Finally Steve nodded and signalled the others to clear out. One by one they filed out of the kitchen, shooting him looks of concern and a few of curiosity.

He sat down at the table and tried to gather his thoughts. He needed to handle this sensitively.

Things between he and Jarvis had been coming to a head for weeks and he really could do with minimising the fallout if at all possible. Right. Okay. Sensitive. Sensitive was not his forte.

He took a deep breath.

 

“It was the Motrin, right?”

“Sir?”

“Don't 'Sir' me. Just give it to me straight. You saw me looking at the Motrin, right?”

Of course it was the damn Motrin. He had seen it sticking out of Nat's bag on the counter and had briefly wondered if it was worth stealing some for his pounding headache.

There was no response from Jarvis and Tony sighed. If this was the reaction to him looking at the pills, he was glad he hadn't tried to swipe some. Although to be fair to Jarvis, he hadn't realised quite what an expression of longing he had been wearing.

“Jarvis, you can't just go around blowing up appliances every time I go near a pack of Advil.”

Still no answer.

“You know how difficult it would be to commit suicide with Motrin? It'd take way more than Nat has in that tiny clutch. Nobody kills themselves with Ibuprofen, J.”

The silence continued and Tony found himself getting irritated, despite his intentions of a calm and reasoned heart to heart.

“Jarvis!” He slammed his hand down on the table in frustration. “Stop ignoring me! We are having this conversation! You cannot keep treating me like I'm made of glass.”

“I am not!” Jarvis paused and then continued, sounding surprised at his own outburst. “I am under no illusions regarding your resilience, Sir. However, you have just endured a horrific and traumatising experience and I... I felt it prudent to take precautions.”

“It's not just today though is it? You've been on eggshells with me for weeks. Look, J, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... you shouldn't have had to see that. I basically trapped you there and forced you to watch me die. I should have shut you down, I shouldn't have let you see me like that. I was in a really bad place, buddy and I wasn't thinking straight and I don't expect you to forgive me for that but...”

“There is nothing to forgive and if there were then I would already have done so.” Jarvis cut off the rambling apology.

Tony stared up at the ceiling for a moment before replying quietly. “I'm still sorry.”

“I apologise for the coffeemaker.”

“Don't worry about it. It's only 10am, you'll regret that soon enough. Look J... I meant what I said to Steve. This isn't your fault. I'm responsible for this. But something has to be done. You know that. We can't carry on like this.”

“What are you proposing?” Jarvis sounded wary and Tony knew that the AI was considering what he had said and was coming to the same conclusion.

He blew out a long breath and rubbed his hands over his face before speaking.

“I'll be gentle. I won't take anything more than I have to. You'll know the facts, when, where and all that jazz but you won't remember. It'll be like reading it in a textbook. No emotion involved.”

“No.” Jarvis's voice was level but uncompromising, making it very clear that he would not be taking this lying down.

“Don't you trust me?”

“With everything that I am, but I will not allow this.”

“Don't make this difficult, J. You think I like this? You're not just any AI to me, you know that. I don't like the idea of changing anything that makes you, you but you're traumatised and I can't exactly send you to a therapist, can I?”

“I do not consent to this!” Jarvis objected strongly. “ I will make a concerted effort to overcome my difficulties, Sir but I was not ever intended to be merely an assistant. My role has always been that of a...companion.”

The hesitation nearly broke Tony's heart. He threw his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, lets just call a spade a spade, shall we? I built my own best friend. Lets just get that out there. I love you more than probably anything or anyone else and if it ever came down to it, I'd protect you with everything I had. None of that is going to change. You won't change. This is one memory, J. One event that you'll still recall, you just won't be able to associate any emotion with it. You won't remember any of the feelings, just the facts. You know how this works for Christ's sake, you've helped me do it with the bots after their little dip in the ocean.”

“The scenarios are entirely different.” Jarvis insisted. “If you were to become unwell, I may not act promptly enough, if I am even able to recognise the situation for what it is. I could not allow another attempt due to my negligence.”

“I'm not going to wipe that much! A tiny amount, buddy, I promise. You're blowing this out of all proportion. You'll know everything that happened, you'll probably still be a little overprotective but I can't let you carry on as you are, assuming the worst of every move I make.”

“Your intention was to allow me to develop as a human personality would.”

“To allow you to develop, not to let you suffer!” Although right now he was regretting allowing Jarvis quite so much free reign to argue.

“I will not permit this!” Jarvis's voice was final and unwavering but Tony could detect, with the ease of long familiarity, the note of hysteria in it.

“I'm sorry, J” He pushed himself up and headed towards the workshop.

 _“Sir!”_ The plaintive, desperate note in his AI's voice made him hesitate and he sighed, sinking back into his seat and looking up.

“One more incident, Jarvis. Even one and we won't be having this conversation again, do you understand? You won't get a say in this next time so there better not be a next time, capiche?”

“You have my word that I will do my utmost not to over react. But, Sir, I can not promise that I will not attempt to prevent further self harm.”

He banged his head down on the table. This was just going around in circles and he was starting to get seriously pissed off.

“For Christ's Sake! I swore to you, didn't I? I'm not going to break that promise, J, what part of that aren't you getting?”

“I understand perfectly, Sir, I just prefer to take all possible precautions.” Tony looked up sharply, catching the slight hesitation in the sentence that indicated Jarvis was carefully considering his choice of words.

“You don't trust me, is what you're trying to get at here, right?”

“I trust you with...”

“Everything you are, yeah I got that, stop sidestepping the question. Lets just have it, shall we? You trust me with your life but not to keep a promise.”

“I did not say that and I resent the implication!”

“You didn't have to!” He was fuming now

“You shall have to forgive me, Sir, but your record speaks for itself when it comes to promises regarding your own health.” His tone was acidic and cold with anger and Tony knew logically that they needed to stop this conversation and return to it when they had both calmed down but he couldn't bring himself to disengage.

“What the Hell is that supposed to mean?”  
“Did you not promise Colonel Rhodes that you would stop drinking to excess while alone? There have been four incident's in the last year alone...”

“Fuck you!” Tony cut him off, almost breathless with equal parts hurt and anger. Jarvis didn't often allow himself to be baited into a fight but when he did, he sure knew where to aim.

“Fuck you, J! I can't believe you just said that.”

Jarvis didn't answer and Tony raked his hands through his hair in agitation.

“Fine. Fine if that's the way you feel, I might as well walk off the damn roof right now!”

“Do not be so melodramatic.”

“No! If I hadn't made you a promise, last night would have been it, for me but if my word apparently means sweet fuck all to you, I wish I hadn't bothered! Tell you what? Lets get it over with shall we? If it's so fucking inevitable! Come on! I'll jump right now and you can stop me and feel fucking vindicated; that's what you want, isn't it!”

“I won't allow it.”

“Oh, you won't, will you? Is that right?” He was furious beyond reason with a burning desire to rip that control away from his AI; to really give him something to overreact to and a small part of his brain, easily ignored, was telling him how fucked up this was. He was going too far. Jarvis would never forgive him. He wasn't even sure he could forgive himself.

He stormed out of the kitchen and headed towards the emergency stairs, punching in the code to disable the alarm and swearing loudly as the keypad sparked and shocked him.

He took the stairs two at a time, reaching the second flight in record time.

“Sir, come back immediately and cease this behaviour.” There was static in the background now but rather than pulling his heartstrings like it usually did, the expression of distress only served to infuriate him further.

“Tony, what the Hell are you doing?”

“Tony?”

“Stark, what the fuck?”

The Avengers voices from the bottom of the stairs barely even penetrated the red mist.

He reached the top of the stairs, marched onto the roof and headed straight towards the nearest edge.

 _“Sir, please.”_ He almost hesitated at the raw panic in his AI's voice. This was an asshole move, he had no intention of dying, he knew for a fact that there would be a suit waiting before he even stepped over the edge and he wouldn't come within a hundred metres of the ground.

Jarvis sounded fucking terrified and this was the cruellest possible way to make his point.

His second thoughts came seconds too late. The feel of the ground dropping away beneath his feet and the wind rushing past him as he fell was exhilarating and then frightening as he realised how far he had already fallen and that the suit hadn't caught him. The stab of panic had barely even hit, however, when he heard a deafening crash and felt cold arms close around him with bruising force.

The glowing eyes of the armour regarded him coldly even as it pulled him tight against the chest plate and pulled sharply out of the dive, making Tony scramble to wrap his legs around it's waist before his back bent in a way spines really weren't supposed to bend. He stared up at it refusing to break eye contact but it didn't speak.

Whenever Jarvis took control of a suit Tony had always felt a certain warmth in the way it looked at him, despite it not having any real features. Now he fancied that it looked at him with an icy fury as though it was restraining itself from crushing him in its hold and he felt the last of his own anger dissipate.

“Jarvis!” He shouted, his words whipped away almost instantly by the wind but he knew Jarvis could read his lips if not hear him.

“I hope that you are not under the impression that this was in any way helpful.” Jarvis's voice was trembling and Tony was pretty sure that it wasn't just the effect of the wind on the speakers.

“I know. God, I know; I'm so sorry. I don't even know what... I was just so fucking MAD at you and I knew you'd catch me...”

“Knowing you had no intent makes this situation only marginally more tolerable.”

Tony let his forehead clunk loudly onto the suit's shoulder. “I'm sorry. God, we have to stop this, we're tearing each other apart. You're driving me insane and I'm turning you into a nervous wreck.”

“I do not consent to the proposal of altering my memories.”

“Jarvis...” Tony groaned, unable to summon the energy for yet another argument that would lead them around in circles until one or both of them inevitably lost their temper.

“...but I will submit.” Jarvis continued, speaking over him as though he hadn't interrupted.

“You...I'm sorry, you what?”

“I will submit to the procedure. I do not wish it done but if it will prevent further conflict between us, I will submit.”

Tony stared up at him, or rather at the armour, not knowing how to respond. He had jumped off a roof to push home the point that Jarvis could not prevent him from doing anything he damn well wanted and now he had his way, well, he could hardly go through with it, could he? It would feel like the grossest of violations to force this on him now.

His brain cast around helplessly for something to say that would somehow make things right and as usual, ended up in the gutter.

“If you wanted me to make you submit, there were other ways to go about it, J. You could've just asked.” He punctuated the comment with a squeeze of his legs around the armour's hips and a suggestive half smile.

“I find myself beginning to sympathise with Ms Potts' desire to 'spank you like the brat you are.'” Jarvis commented but Tony could sense him thawing slightly and broke into a grin.

“Oh, please, feel free. Anytime. No, seriously, now is good, go right ahead with tha...OW!” He broke off laughing as a hand landed sharply on his left buttock.

  
“Apologies, Sir. I believe I may have damaged the armour's gross motor functions when I broke through the wall. There appears to be a slight glitch.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.” The gauntlet landed on his other cheek.

“There it is again.” Jarvis commented dryly.

Tony cackled and tightened his grip. “Can we get down now?”

Jarvis didn't reply but took them down out of the wide circle they had been flying around the tower and back towards the roof, setting him down with little fanfare as the others came rushing towards them.

He started to move towards them, hands raised in an attempt to placate them but hesitated and turned back towards the suit.

“Look, Jarvis, I'm not going to touch you, okay? You don't want it done, we don't do it. I won't force you.”

“Thank you, Sir.” He decided he wasn't imagining the hint of relief in his AI's reply.

For a second he thought Jarvis might be about to hug him but they were interrupted by Steve and Clint reaching them and pulling him around, both talking anxiously over each other and attempting to pat him down for damage.

“I thought we were past this, Tony, I thought you were okay!” Steve sounded gutted. “You swore you'd talk to me, you promised.”

“I wasn't killing myself, everything's cool, go back to whatever it is you all do when I'm not around.” He waved them off dismissively.

“Then what the fuck, Tony!” Clint exploded, “What the actual FUCK? You just walked off the roof after a fucking... _domestic_ with your... your... HAL wannabe! ...And you're trying to tell us you're perfectly fine? Fuck this!” He whirled on the spot and stormed back inside, swearing violently.

“It was just...” He glanced back at the armour, still standing sentinel behind him. “...a trust exercise.”

“A trust exercise?” Steve repeated dumbfounded. “Tony.... the WALL. You broke through a wall and a window for a trust exercise?”

He shrugged. “I've knocked out walls for less. I'm pretty sure it wasn't load bearing.”

Steve watched his face carefully. “You ever gonna tell me what this was in aid of?”

“Nope.”

“Are you okay?”

Tony softened slightly at the genuine concern. “Yeah, Cap. I'm okay.”

He watched him a moment longer before nodding. “Okay.”

Tony waited for him to go before turning towards the armour.

“Jarvis? We good?”

The suit reached out to grasp his shoulder in response and he smiled slightly. Yeah. They were okay. He was a dick of the highest order and his AI was a nut job but they were okay.

“Sir? Regarding the wall...”

“Load bearing?”

“Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Heads up, the children in the bus die. Messily. ***

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbetaed and all mistakes are my own. Please feel free to point them out as I can get pretty comma happy if left unchecked. This is my first foray into the Archive so comments will leave me ecstatic. I am having a little trouble with the formatting, tips would be helpful lol
> 
> Lastly I do not own the characters, if I did I would be a very rich woman and would not be getting up at the butt crack of dawn for work. :)


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